


Return to Lallybroch

by gotham_ruaidh



Series: Gotham Writes for Imagine Claire & Jamie [6]
Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-04-24 14:23:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4922980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotham_ruaidh/pseuds/gotham_ruaidh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine how the Outlander story would be different if Brian and Ellen Fraser were still alive. Related ficlets written for Imagine Claire & Jamie on tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a prompt sent in to [Imagine Claire and Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/130274311569/imagine-if-claire-actually-got-to-meet-jamies) on tumblr. I'm posting my Imagine prompts here for easier reading and in case there's anyone on AO3 who might not be on tumblr. Do feel free to check the blog out, though, and send in prompts if you have more ideas for our favorite pair!

_Original prompt: Imagine if Claire actually got to meet Jamie's parents, Brian and Ellen when they arrived at Lallybroch // The Watch never came to Lallybroch so Jamie and Claire stayed. Jenny and Ian had to leave for a day or two. Imagine Jamie and Claire taking care of wee Jamie and Maggie._

* * *

 

“Ye dinna mind sleeping in the spare room, then?”

Claire briefly looked up at her father-in-law before returning to her work, carefully grinding comfrey and other herbs into a salve for his aching joints. What with the hubbub surrounding the future laird’s return last night – coupled with hurried (if heartfelt) introductions to Brian and Ellen and Robert and Jenny and Ian – she and Jamie had been shuffled into a clean but clearly unused bedroom on the house’s third floor.

“I’m just glad to have a roof over our heads,” she said softly.

Brian – observant but tactful – did not pry. “So have ye two come to stay, then? We’d heard word of your marriage and weren’t sure when ye’d come back to Lallybroch for good.”

Claire pursed her lips, clearly thinking. After a long moment she bravely raised her gaze to meet his kind eyes. “I want you to know – when I married him, I had no idea he is to be laird of this place. I didn’t even know his true last name. I didn’t – ”

“Ach.” Brian rested a gentle hand on her forearm. “Dinna fash yerself, lass – ”

“With respect, Mr. Fraser – I needed to tell you. He’s an amazing man, your son. He has sacrificed so much for me, so that we could have a life together.” She swallowed. “He – he married me to protect me from Captain Randall.”

“Randall?” Ellen’s fair brows lifted in question. “The one who almost killed both you and your father?”

“Aye, the same.” Jamie’s voice was muffled as he bent to pull weeds from the base of the gnarled rosebush in the dooryard. “I had to protect her, Mam. He – he tried to rape her. He would have done much worse, if I hadna done something.”

Ellen plucked dead leaves from around her prized buds. “And conveniently for my brother Dougal, it takes ye from the line of succession.”

Jamie stood, hurt. “Ye ken I never wanted that! I’m to be laird of this place, no other!”

She sighed, shaking her head.

Jamie stepped closer to her. She watched him lick his lips. “Besides, Mam – I love Claire. I love her more than I ever thought I could love anyone, or anything.”

Ellen tilted her head, thoughtful. “Have ye told her, then?”

“Ye ken Jamie’s Mam and I marrit at a moment’s notice as well?” Brian gently rubbed Claire’s salve onto his stiff knuckles, just as she had instructed.

Claire nodded. “Yes – he told me on our wedding night. Sounds like something we have in common is a desire to stick it to the MacKenzie brothers.”

Brian laughed heartily. Jamie had his smile. “Ah well, lass – for all ye’re a Sassenach widow, older than wee Jamie, and with a foul mouth – I couldna have picked a better match for the lad if I’d tried.”

“Have ye even tried telling her how ye feel?” Ellen asked gently, lightly rubbing her son’s back. He’d refused to show her the flogging scars – but she hoped he’d trust himself enough to share in time.

Jamie shook his head. “I canna find the words, Mam. I feel so much. It’s almost too much.”

She squeezed his shoulder. “Take it from a woman, son. She’ll understand.” Briefly she turned her face back to the rosebush, thoughtful. “Have ye ever given yer bride a posey, Jamie?”

He refused to meet her eyes. “No. I haven’t. I haven’t given her much of anything, Mam – save her ring. But now, I – I want to give her everything. A home, a place, a family of our own. I hope – ” he swallowed sharply.

Ellen’s heart ached. “What, lad?”

He sighed. “I hope it’s enough for her. That I’m enough for her.”

Ellen clucked her tongue and suddenly clasped her son tightly to her chest. “Ye’ll do just fine, Jamie lad,” she whispered into his hair. “She doesna need anything – just you.” After a while, she pulled back and plucked a blooming rose from the bush. “But perhaps it’s never too late for a wee wedding gift, aye?”

Later that night, Jamie and Claire sat with Brian and Ellen in the sitting room, lingering over one last glass of whisky. Jenny, Ian, and Robert had long ago gone up to bed. Brian flexed the hand holding his glass – no longer stiff, thanks to Claire – and smiled at his son and daughter-in-law, seated on the chaise across the room, holding hands. He could just see the edge of a rose peeking from Claire’s hair when she turned her head to watch the fire.

“Ye’re a rare fine healer, Claire. I’ve tried most everything for years, and here your potion works on just the first go-round.”

Jamie drew a smiling Claire closer against him. “Ah, well – she mended me twice on the day she met me. I figured it may be a bonny idea to keep her around.”

“Frasers,” Ellen rolled her eyes. “Once they set their mind on something, they’ll move heaven and earth – even rip the veil of time, if they had to.”

Claire’s gentle start didn’t escape Brian’s notice. Neither did his observation of Jamie drawing Claire even tighter against his shoulder.

But the moment passed, and Claire smiled gently. “Who says he already hasn’t?” she teased.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a prompt sent in to [Imagine Claire & Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/131956326325/the-watch-never-came-to-lallybroch-so-jamie-and) on tumblr. I'm posting my Imagine prompts here on AO3 for easier reading and in case there's anyone here who might not be on tumblr. Do feel free to check out the blog and send in prompts if you have more ideas for our favorite pair!

_Original prompt: The Watch never came to Lallybroch so Jamie and Claire stayed. Jenny and Ian had to leave for a day or two. Imagine Jamie and Claire taking care of wee Jamie and Maggie._

* * *

 

Jamie heaved the hewn log upright. Brian grabbed the other end, and together they guided it into position, filling the gap in the paddock fence. The log locked in place with a slight thud, and father and son released it, breathing heavily.

“That the last one?”

Brian nodded, still short of breath. “I’d rather we’d waited until Ian gets back, but we canna have the sheep get out again. Yer mam and sister would never forgive me.”

Jenny and Ian had departed just after dawn, wanting to get an early start for their visit to the MacNab croft. Jenny would have preferred going on her own – but Ian hadn’t let her out of his sight in the two weeks since Maggie had arrived. And they’d jumped at the chance to get some time alone together.

Which was why wee Jamie was in the paddock with his uncle and grandfather, generally getting in the way, his smock splattered with mud, random tools clutched in his tiny hands.

“Can ye crawl under the fence, _a bhailach_?” Brian called. “We need to go to the stables next.”

Wee Jamie’s grimy face brightened instantly. “Horsey?” he asked hopefully, carefully crawling through the gap.

Jamie bent and hoisted his namesake up on his shoulders. The boy shrieked with delight.

“Aye lad – but ye must stay away from Donas this time, aye? Dinna want ye losing a finger or two.”

Slowly the trio skirted the paddock and approached the barn. Brian looked over at his son thoughtfully.

“Ye look good wi’ a wee lad.”

Jamie grimaced as the boy’s tiny fingers anchored tighter in his hair. “Ach. It’s what I pray for, Da.”

“Pray for? Why?”

Jamie refused to meet Brian’s eyes. “Claire. She – weel. She thinks she’s barren.”

Brian stopped and laid a gentle hand on Jamie’s arm. Wee Jamie extended his own arms, and Brian automatically took the boy and quietly settled him on his shoulders.

“Why’s that? Because she was marrit before?”

Jamie nodded, lips pursed. “They were marrit for seven years. No children. So.”

Brian reached out a gnarled hand to Jamie’s face, turning his son’s eyes to meet his own. “That’s verra sad. But perhaps the problem lay wi’ her husband?”

Jamie sighed. “Perhaps. It – it pains me to think of her wi’ him. But it pains me even more to think of her never holding a bairn of her own. Ye’ve seen how she’s taken to wee Maggie.”

Brian ruffled Jamie’s hair as he had done when he was a lad. “Dinna fash. God will provide.”

Jamie nodded. “Well then. Let’s see to the horses.” He strode forward, and Brian sighed, heart aching.

\-----

Claire sighed in relief, settling deeper into the chaise by the fire.

“Ah – ye’ve got the magic touch,” Ellen remarked from across the room, where she was busily knitting a brightly-colored blanket. “She always settles down when she’s wi’ ye.”

Claire smiled down at Maggie’s perfect rosebud lips. “She misses her mother, poor thing. I suppose I’m a worthy substitute.”

Ellen clucked her tongue. “It’s no’ empty words, Claire. She knows ye. Yours was the first voice she heard in this world – no wonder she’s comforted by ye.”

Claire’s lips twisted in a rueful smile. Emotion – and sudden, unexpected tears – welled.

“Claire?” Ellen asked tentatively after a long, silent moment.

Embarrassed, Claire quickly wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I’m all right, thank you.”

Ellen set aside her knitting and softly padded across the room, settling on the chaise beside her daughter-in-law. Gently she tilted Claire’s chin so that their eyes met. “Claire? I’ve only known ye for a short time, but – I hope ye feel ye can speak freely wi’ me.”

Claire swallowed. “I don’t think I can have children.” Her voice was quiet, sad. Defeated.

Ellen slid her hand down to squeeze Claire’s shoulder. “Are ye certain?”

Claire sighed. “Fairly certain. And Jamie knows.”

“And what did he say?”

Claire shifted Maggie within the crook of her elbow. “That he loves me.”

Ellen’s eyes softened with love for her son – and compassion for his beautiful, mysterious wife. “I have confidence in ye, Claire. It may take time – but ye’ll be a bonny mother one day. Ye have such a great capacity for love – I see how ye are wi’ the bairns – and wi’ Jamie too. God will reward your love.”

A tear slid down Claire’s cheek – and she quickly wiped it away at the sound of heavy bootsteps in the hall. Murtagh’s grizzled face turned the corner, holding a giggling wee Jamie upside down by his ankles. “This one needs a good scrubbing. Shall I set up the washtub in the kitchen?”

Ellen rose. “Aye. Go tell Mrs. Crook – I’ll be there in a bit.” She smiled as her grandson’s laughter echoed down the hall, and turned back to Claire.

“Dinna fash. You and Jamie have many, many years ahead of ye.”

Claire mustered a small smile and Ellen nodded, crossing the room – and almost colliding with her husband in the doorway.

“Are ye done, then?”

Brian nodded and pulled her in for a kiss. “All done. For today, anyway.” He eased closer to allow Jamie to slip in behind him. Together, Brian and Ellen watched Claire’s face immediately brighten as Jamie approached – and her eyes close in absolute bliss as he tenderly kissed her forehead.

“They’re so fortunate in each other,” Ellen remarked quietly.

Claire smiled serenely as Jamie whispered in her ear.

“Aye, _mo nighean ruaidh_ ,” Brian murmured. “That they are.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a prompt sent in to [Imagine Claire & Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/133935948986/can-you-write-an-update-to-the-previous-ellen-and) on tumblr. I'm posting my Imagine prompts here on AO3 for easier reading and in case there's anyone here who might not be on tumblr. Do feel free to check out the blog and send in prompts if you have more ideas for our favorite pair!

_Original prompt: Can you write an update to the previous Ellen and Brian AU fic where Jamie and Claire announce they're expecting? Or are already pregnant?_

* * *

 

Jamie silently closed the kitchen door to find his father waiting by the banked fire. Quietly he removed his dun bonnet, gently laid it and his cloak on the butcher’s block, and crossed the room to step into his father’s tight embrace.

“How is she?”

Brian clapped his son on the back, worrying at the bony shoulders poking beneath his coat. “Better. Yer mam says it could be any day now.” He released Jamie and held him by the elbows. His face was gaunt - as all of theirs were, these days - but his eyes were bright. His spirit was still strong.

Jamie swallowed. “I feel so helpless, Da.” His voice was quiet, moody. “I worry so much. She nearly died the last time -”

“Ye ken well that Jenny and yer mam will never let anything happen to her,” Brian interrupted. “She’s in the best hands we can find.”

Jamie sighed and rubbed his face with grimy hands, grimacing. “Can ye fetch me some water, then? I want to wash afore going upstairs.”

A few moments later - scrubbed and with his hair brushed back a bit - Jamie eased up the stairs. He still had to take them one at a time, on account of his still-healing leg, but at least he _could_ walk under his own power. Had it not been for his sheer strength of will, Claire’s skill, and his mam and Jenny’s stubbornness, he surely would not have survived the bayonet wound he’d suffered at Culloden.

It was a miracle that he’d not died on that terrible battlefield - and that Claire and Murtagh had made it back to Lallybroch ahead of him. It was truly the only safe place they had left - and he knew that, had he not survived, Murtagh and his parents would look out for Claire for the rest of her days. And above all, keep her and his family safe.

The baby. Jamie swallowed as he slowly crossed the landing at the top of the stairs. He so missed just holding his wife, feeling the bairn tumble within her belly, marveling at their miracle. They’d shared many a quiet night together as his leg healed - but he’d moved into the cave about two months back, when the frequency of English patrols had unexpectedly increased. He gladly did it to keep them safe - to keep her safe. But he ached with longing for her. For his family.

Quietly he eased the door to the laird’s room ajar. His mother, seated at the foot of the bed, looked up - and her face immediately brightened.

But Jamie only had eyes for Claire - sitting against the headboard, her wild hair curling all askew, hands resting on the huge swell of her belly. Her beautiful face, glowing in the candlelight. Her bonny mouth, split into an ecstatic grin as their eyes locked.

Wordlessly, Jamie stepped to the bed, knelt, and clasped Claire so tightly he was afraid for a moment that he’d crushed all the air out of her. He buried his face in the lovely curve of her neck, inhaling deeply. Her fingers tangled into his hair and held him close.

“Shhh,” she whispered. “It’s all right. I’m all right now. Just false pains.”

Jamie raised his face so they were nose to nose. “I’m so sorry I canna be with ye. Ye shouldna be alone.”

Claire smiled. “But I’m not alone. See?”

She eased back a bit and Jamie peered over her shoulder – to see wee Faith curled up next to her mother, her dark curls spilling over the white pillow, tiny chest rhythmically rising and falling, deep in sleep.

“She’s been missing you, too – and she’s refusing to sleep with her cousins. And since I have all this empty space in the bed –”

Jamie stood and leaned across Claire’s body to gently stroke Faith’s soft cheek. The girl stirred and wearily opened her eyes – a light sleeper, just like him.

“Da?” she asked sleepily, blue eyes cracking open.

“Aye, _a chiusle_. I’m here now.”

She let out a small breath and shut her eyes, burrowing even closer into Claire’s side.

“She wants to protect her mam,” Ellen softly remarked. Jamie started – he’d forgotten his mam was there, so wrapped up he was in his wife and daughter. Claire gingerly scooted over and he eased onto the bed next to her, wrapping an arm tightly around her shoulders.

“Protect her? From what?”

“She saw a redcoat patrol yesterday.” Ellen had returned to knitting a small brown cap, no doubt for the new bairn. “Your father, Ian, Murtagh, Robert, and Fergus waited downstairs while all the women and children were sent upstairs – and when Faith asked why, Robert told her it was to keep them safe. But then she didn’t understand why none of the men were upstairs to keep them safe up there – so Murtagh asked her to do it. Apparently she’s taking her duty quite seriously.”

Jamie sighed. Claire wearily lay her head on his shoulder, and he kissed her forehead, inhaling her. Grounding himself in her.

“She’ll make a bonny big sister,” he said into the clouds of Claire’s hair.

Claire winced slightly as the baby kicked her ribs. Quickly she grabbed Jamie’s hand and settled it over her belly. His fingers curled as the child danced beneath his palm, and a feeling of deep love surged in his heart.

As it did in Ellen’s as she watched her son and daughter-in-law – worn to the bone under so much strain – lose themselves in their joy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a prompt sent in to [Imagine Claire and Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/135450487278/imagine-jamie-and-claire-taking-a-horse-ride-with) on tumblr. I'm posting my Imagine prompts here for easier reading and in case there's anyone on AO3 who might not be on tumblr. Do feel free to check the blog out, though, and send in prompts if you have more ideas for our favorite pair!

_Original prompt: Imagine Jamie and Claire taking a horse ride with Faith (if she had survived) and Brianna as young girls._

* * *

“Settle down, Faith.”

The three-year-old squirmed in the saddle ahead of her mother. “But Mama-”

“Hush, _a nighean_ ,” Brian interjected, nudging his horse alongside Claire’s. “Ye’ll be back on the ground soon.”

Faith huffed but obediently remained still, her small body thumping back against wee Brianna, slung tightly across Claire’s chest. Five months old now - old enough to make a prolonged journey from home, now that spring had arrived and icy winds no longer blew between the Highland mountains or across the estate’s fallow fields.

“There it is - do ye see it?” Ellen - at Claire’s left - shifted the reins to her right hand, pointing at the croft in the valley below.

“I see it!” Faith exclaimed. “Is he really there?”

“Aye - he should be.” Brian carefully eased his horse down the steep incline, followed by Claire and the girls, with Ellen bringing up the rear. Flanking their daughter-in-law and granddaughters. Protecting them. Keeping their word to Jamie.

Brianna let out a cry as the horse’s hoof struck a rock and jostled the younger Fraser women. Claire settled the baby closer to her chest, cooing to her. Faith twisted to face her sister and lay a chubby hand on Brianna’s back, patting her gently, as Mama had shown her.

“ _Seas_ , Bwee,” she said softly. “I miss Da too.”

They reached the bottom of the hill and clopped slowly toward the farmhouse. Claire could feel Faith almost vibrating with excitement as they steadily moved closer. Once the door swung open to reveal her husband, Claire ignored Ellen’s pleas and kicked her horse into a gallop, focusing on Jamie’s smiling face, holding tight to a giggling Faith.

Claire pulled the horse to a stop - and Jamie was right there, hoisting up Faith with one hand, helping Claire dismount with his other - kissing Brianna’s red fuzz - and then claiming his wife’s mouth, heedless of his wriggling daughters and his parents’ admonishments.

“I know we’re aways from civilization, but can ye no’ even cover yer red heid when ye’re outside?”

Jamie sighed against Claire’s lips and looked up at his exasperated father. He briefly touched his mouth to Claire’s in apology before stepping back and boosting Faith onto his shoulders.

“It’s just for now, Da - the patrol passed two days ago - there’s nothing to be worrit about,” he replied over Faith’s gleeful giggles. Carefully balancing his daughter - whose tiny fists had now anchored rightly in his hair - he walked to Ellen, helped her out of her saddle, and began untying the basket strapped to the horse’s rump. “What have ye -”

Ellen almost knocked the wind out of him as she seized her son in a bear hug, holding onto him tightly.

“Mam? What?”

“Two months wi’out seeing ye is too long, _a bhailach_ ,” she whispered in his ear. “Ye canna be away from us for that long - not when the lassies are so small.”

He sighed, collapsing into her, letting her hold him close as if he were a bairn again. “Dinna think it’s easy for me,” he replied, voice muffled in her soft, knit shawl. “I must be out here for a while yet. I canna risk being so close to the house - canna put you and Jenny and Da and Claire and the girls in danger.”

Faith kicked her wee legs against Ellen’s shoulders, and he slowly straightened, holding his mother’s weathered hands. “Let’s just enjoy this day - and tonight, hmm?”

Ellen could only reply with a rueful smile as Brian - now dismounted - clapped Jamie on the back and led the three horses away to be hobbled.

Jamie turned to face his wife - so beautiful, so radiant as she gently rocked Brianna, quieting her fussing. She felt his eyes on her and looked up at him. Their gazes locked - and time stopped.

Only to be interrupted within seconds by his very inquisitive daughter. “Grandda took the horses away, but do ye think me and you and Mama and Baby Bwee can ride together tomorrow?

Visions of holding wee Faith before him in the saddle - and eating as a family beneath the shade of an oak tree - and Claire’s luminous skin as he loved her while the girls slept - darted through his mind. Gently he rubbed Faith’s tiny foot, snug in her wee boots. Claire smiled a secret smile - his secret smile, so full of promise.

“Aye, _a nighean_. As soon as we can.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a prompt sent in to [Imagine Claire and Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/138736491861/i-love-the-brian-and-ellen-au-can-you-do-a) on tumblr. I'm posting my Imagine prompts here for easier reading and in case there's anyone on AO3 who might not be on tumblr. Do feel free to check the blog out, though, and send in prompts if you have more ideas for our favorite pair!

_Original prompt: I love the Brian and Ellen AU! Can you do a continuation of the last post of it? Thanks! // I’m greedy, I want more about wee Faith! Your previous prompts featuring her made me even more sad that she never lived, that Claire and Jamie never got to have her in their life and that Bree never got to have a big sister._

* * *

 

Faith listlessly propped her elbows on a windowsill in the cottage, holding her cheeks, squinting through the wavy glass at the empty moor beyond.

She was still annoyed that Mama and Da hadn’t let her come along to help gather some of Mama’s wee herbs – and she couldn’t understand why Grandda and Grannie had laughed when Da told them where he and Mama were going. Normally that was her job, holding Mama’s basket while she crouched to pluck leaves from bushes or dig roots from the peaty soil.

But Da had asked her to care for Brianna while they were on their walk – so she did, the sleeping baby nestled in her basket at Faith’s feet. Grannie had asked if she’d like to help her with the knitting – a blanket for the bairn that was still in Auntie Jenny’s belly – but Faith had refused, wanting to keep watch at the window for her parents – and anyone, or anything, that could possibly hurt her sister.

“If ye keep looking out that window, they’ll never come back,” Grandda chided from across the room.

Faith turned as he stood up from adding another log to the fire, reaching high for the ceiling to loosen the stiff bones in his back and shoulders. He let out a funny sound as he stretched, and Faith couldn’t help but giggle.

“Are ye laughing at me, lass?” Grandda teased.

“Noooo!” she insisted, though she was sure Grandda could see her smile from where he stood, hands on his hips.

“Mmphmm. Do ye want to help me wi’ the supper, then? It will be nice for yer Mam and Da to have something to eat when they get back.”

“God knows they’re working up an appetite,” Grannie remarked, head bent as she unspooled a length of yellow yarn.

“Hush, you – mind the bairns,” Grandda hissed.

Faith tucked the blanket tighter around Brianna and carried her basket to Grannie’s side, gently setting her down beside the bright piles of yarn. “It’s all right, Grandda – I _always_ get hungry when I go on a walk with Mama.”

Grannie snorted, settled the half-knit blanket in her lap and reached down to Brianna, tucking her tiny cap closer around her ears.  “I think there are some bannocks and cheese in the parcel from Mrs. Crook – can you help Grandda find them?”

Faith scampered over to the small, rough-hewn table in the corner, where Grandda had deposited the saddlebags after they’d arrived earlier that afternoon. “Was it in this one?”

Brian knelt beside her, gently separating out the bags. “Let’s see – this are fresh clouts for yer sister, a book for yer Da to read, some bandages from yer Mam – here!” He tugged a rough sack free from the tangle and handed it over to his eager granddaughter.

She undid the twine at the bag’s neck. “Bannocks!”

“Aye,” Brian smiled. “Will ye help me warm them over the fire?”

And so they passed several quiet, content moments – finding the iron pan, gently placing the bannocks on them, swinging the pan over the fire, and cleaning off the table in preparation for a simple but long-awaited supper.

“Grandda?” Faith sat up on one of the chairs, her tiny legs idly swinging back and forth.

“Aye?” Grandda used the end of a blanket to carefully touch the iron pan, examine the bannocks, and then gently push the pan back over the flames.

“You said that Da has to live in the cave and stay in this cottage because he wants to protect us, aye?”

“I did.”

Her dark brows furrowed. “But I dinna understand how him staying away from us is how he protects us. Because when he asked me to protect Brianna, he told me to keep her near me, always.”

Grandda sighed and knelt to be eye-level with his inquisitive, fearless granddaughter. “You know that the redcoats want to capture yer Da, aye?”

Faith’s curls bobbed as she nodded, eyes wide.

“So. Yer Da knows that if he were at the house, and the redcoats came by, looking for him – they might harm other people.”

“Because they’re mean.”

He smiled ruefully and lay a gentle, gnarled hand on her shoulder. “Because they’ll do what they must. And because yer Da loves you and yer sister and yer Mam something fierce – and he loves yer Auntie Jenny and Uncle Ian and yer cousins and me and Grannie, too – he doesna want _anything_ to happen to us.”

Realization dawned on Faith’s soft features – already so much like Claire, she’d clearly inherited her mother’s glass face as well.

“So – sometimes the best way to keep the people you love safe is by being away from them. Do ye understand?”

Faith nodded. “Aye. But I dinna like it.”

Brian drew her close to him, and she disappeared in his embrace. “Oh, lass. I dinna like it either.”

After a long moment he drew away, hands still clasping her tiny shoulders. “Now then. How about a bannock while I keep telling ye the story about Wee Maisie?”

—  
Jamie twisted one of Claire’s curls around his finger, delighting in how it sprung back into place amid the damp tangles of her hair. She sleepily shifted against him, atop the soft warmth of her cloak, nestled in the hayloft beside the crofter’s cottage where he’d been staying for the past weeks.

“I’d expect Brianna to do that – but she doesn’t know any better,” Claire murmured, stretching lazily like a cat, touching the glorious skin of her naked body all along the contours of his.

“Oh, I _do_ know better, _mo nighean donn_ ,” he breathed into the shell of her ear, delighting in her shiver. “I dream of this – holding you, smelling your hair. Being joined with you.”

Softly, gently he ran his free hand up her quivering belly and between the valley of her breasts. Her breath hitched, and his smiling eyes met her hooded ones. Slowly he kissed the bead of milk pearling on her nipple. She arched, and he hummed in pleasure against her.

“Again?” he whispered against her sternum.

Her legs wrapped around his. “But your parents –“

“Can wait. My wife, however, can’t.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted at [Imagine Claire & Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/142298774090/i-love-this-blog-i-really-liked-the-story-where) on tumblr

Original prompt: I love this blog! I really liked the story where Claire and Jamie put little Brianna to bed. Imagine Jamie and Claire bring little Brianna on a picnic and Jamie teaches Brianna to swim. This makes Claire nervous! (18th Century)

* * *

 

“No, darling - the water is too deep, and you’re not big enough yet!”

Claire smiled and tightened her grip on her wriggling redheaded daughter, happily splashing her tiny limbs in the cool water of the millpond, enjoying the novelty of not having a clout on. Brianna, aged one, always loved water - she squealed with delight every time she had a bath - and this was her first time taking a real dip.

Claire shifted in her position sitting at the millpond’s edge, her legs submerged in the water up to the top of her thighs, Brianna held safely between her knees, cooing happily. She lifted her gaze to focus across the millpond, where Jamie stood - shoulder-deep - cradling four-year-old Faith, guiding her as she paddled through the water, her dark, wet curls flat against her tiny forehead.

“Mama! Mama! I’m swimming!”

Her heart soared - and filled with worry - though she knew that Jamie was right behind Faith, and would never, *ever*, allow her to sink below the surface even for even a second.

“That’s wonderful, love! Can you swim over to Brianna?”

Jamie - always so perceptive - settled his hands on Faith’s back and pulled her a bit out of the water, allowing her to catch her breath. “Are ye ready, then? Remember, ye have to move yer arms afore yer legs, aye?”

Faith nodded eagerly, and Jamie gently released her, walking slowly behind her as she churned the water, gradually approaching the pond’s edge. Brianna cooed as she spotted her beloved sister, and reached out her chubby hands in welcome.

Jamie briefly tore his eyes from Faith’s tender back to just enjoy the sight of Claire, her shift all rucked up, long white legs luminous in the water. She was completely open to him - even though she sheltered their precious daughter - and a rush of pure want bolted through him. They had had so little time to reconnect after she and the girls had come by the cottage the night before - both Faith and Brianna had been so excited, and after they went to sleep Mam, Da, and Murtagh had wanted to share the latest news of redcoats in the area and the prospects for the year’s harvest.

He knew those conversations had to happen - knew that they could take their time, in the cottage tucked safely away under a small hill such a far distance from the main house that the chance of being discovered by an occasional patrol was next to nil. But still they’d smoored the hearth, sitting in the dim light as they caught up with each other. The perfect excuse for his hands to tangle unceasingly with Claire’s, sheltered in the darkness, his thumb caressing and cherishing the lovely grooves of her palms, the tender veins in the soft part of her wrist, the pads of her fingers calloused from her work.

There had been no time - no opportunity - to do more than hold her close in sleep, lips endlessly kissing her face, relishing the slivers of bare skin that touched his own. But today - it was early afternoon, and the girls would definitely go down for a nap once they dried off. And then perhaps he could ask Murtagh to keep watch while he and Claire stole some time alone in the cottage…

“You did it!” Claire exclaimed as Faith, panting, clutched one of her mother’s legs.

“I did it, Mama!” she exclaimed, out of breath. “I swam!”

Jamie reached for Brianna and settled her against his shoulder as Claire bent to take a firmer grip of Faith.

“I’m so proud of you!” Claire smiled, heart full. “Do you want to rest for a bit?”

Faith nodded, and Claire slowly, gently lifted her out of the water, holding her close, not caring that her shift became soaking wet as her daughter snuggled against her.

Brianna’s tiny legs kicked against Jamie’s chest, eager to be dipped further into the water. But his eyes were fixed on Claire. With the early afternoon sun shining in her hair like a halo, a serene smile gracing her face, she was the very picture of the Madonna and child.

How did he get so lucky? Even now - when he could only see his wife and children a few days out of the month, and he had to live in exile on his own lands - he still had so many blessings. Almost overcome, he shifted Brianna tighter against his shoulder and extended his free hand - under the water - to rest on the back of Claire’s calf. He stroked the skin there so gently - but Claire’s eyes darted to meet his. She read the unspoken question on his face. He felt her toes curl in pleasure, and watched her lick her lips.

“And where’s my wee fishie?”

Faith perked up and grinned at the sight of her grandfather cresting over the small hill beside the pond where he and Murtagh had been keeping watch.

“Grandda!” she exclaimed. “I swam all the way across the pond!”

Brian crouched beside Claire to be at eye level with Faith. “Did ye now? And I missed it!”

“It’s all right - Faith was just getting dried off,” Claire said softly. Her cheeks flamed, but it could have been from the bright sunlight. “I think it’s time these wee Frasers had a late lunch and a nap - what do you think, darlings?”

“Nap,” Brianna agreed, her small eyes already starting to drowse.

Faith extended her arms toward her grandfather, and he neatly picked up first her and then her sister. Straightening up with an over-exaggerated “Oof!” - amid giggles from his granddaughters - he swiftly turned back toward the hill.

“…see what Grannie has made for lunch back at the cottage, aye?”

Jamie watched his father slowly step back up the hill, cradling his precious burdens. Then his eyes met Claire’s. And narrowed conspiratorially.

He stepped closer, in between her parted legs, hands anchored on her hips. From her perch on the side of the pond she was taller than him - and he relished the novelty.

She wound her legs around his waist and he tilted up his chin for a kiss.

She complied.

He smiled against her mouth, and pulled her into the water.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted at [Imagine Claire & Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/144151880597/imagine-jamie-and-claire-introducing-their-parents) on tumblr

original prompt: Imagine Jamie and Claire introducing their parents to each other if they were all still alive. At a wedding, at their child's birth, at a dinner, anytime and anywhere!  

* * *

Claire frowned at the lopsided sock she had been attempting to knit for the past hour. No matter how many times Ellen or Jenny patiently showed her how to count her stitches and stick to the basics, she found it so damned hard to just *focus*.

“Do ye want me to help ye again?” Ellen didn’t look up from her own half-completed blanket, just continued rocking wee Kitty’’s basket with her foot. “I think it’s no’ so easy for ye because every time ye get a few minutes to yerself, there’s either a bairn or sick person needing attention.”

“That, or my husband.” Claire sighed, but couldn’t suppress a tiny grin just at the thought of him. It had been a bold move, Jamie coming to visit the house and stay for a few days. But it was almost Christmas - today being the solstice, the shortest day of the year - and the scant hours of daylight deterred the redcoat patrols.

Which meant that Jamie could spend Christmas surrounded by his family. Claire hadn’t been able to stop smiling since Jamie had arrived very early that morning, waking her up with frozen kisses and loving her so quietly, tenderly, and thoroughly in the sacred dark that they had been almost overcome with the sheer rush of emotion and feeling.

Now he and Brian and Robert and Ian were going over the ledgers in the study while Jenny and Mrs. Crook supervised the supper preparations, and the pack of wee Murray and Fraser bairns quietly played in the nursery upstairs under the careful supervision of Murtagh and Fergus.

Ellen scooted closer to Claire on the settle, squinting her eyes, concentrating on Claire’s crooked stitches. “I still canna believe that ye never learned to clackit when ye were a bairn, Claire. Even in - in yer own time, surely it must still be done?”

Once they had returned from France, Faith still healing from Master Raymond’s miraculous intervention, Claire and Jamie still so freshly restored to each other - it was clear that for Faith and Claire’s safety, they had to tell the family the truth about her. Where, and when, she had come from. There had been disbelief, of course - but they had accepted it as swiftly as Jamie had. They didn’t quite understand it, of course - but they believed her. All the more reason to protect her and the girls - all the more reason why Jamie willingly lived apart in order to keep them all safe.

“Yes, of course we still - will - have knitting. But most girls learn from their grandmothers, or aunts, or mothers. I - I had none of that, growing up.” Claire swallowed away a tiny lump of emotion. For so many years she had had little to no reaction when speaking about her parents - her mother - the sad facts never changed, and the dull pain which she didn’t quite remember feeling at age five was just…there.

But in the four years since she’d become a mother herself, and grown to cherish the bonds she’d forged with Faith and Brianna - the more pain she felt at that loss. Especially since Faith was now not too much younger than she had been when her own mother had passed away.

Ellen gently laid down her knitting needles - the old wood worn shiny from years of use - and gently wrapped an arm around Claire’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry, *a leannan*. I didna mean to upset ye - I mind that ye lost yer Mam verra young, of course ye’d have nobody to teach ye.”

Claire lay down her own knitting and smoothed shaky palms over the scratchy wool of her winter dress. “It was so many years ago - I never truly think about it anymore, to be honest. But there are these small things that I teach my own daughters, or want to teach them someday - and…”

Her voice trailed off, heart suddenly longing to just hold her two wee fiends close for a bit, breathing in the scent of their hair.

Ellen turned to face Claire directly, arm still tight around her shoulders. “Tell me more about yer Mam, Claire. Tell me what ye remember. What she was like.”

Claire stared into the fire for a long while before answering.

“I don’t have any - any true memories, I suppose. More like images. She had brown hair, and golden eyes, like mine. But I can’t remember if her hair was curly, or if that came from my father’s side. They were about the same height, Mother and Father -” She paused, considering. “I always called them ‘Mother’ and ‘Father,’ now that I think about it. So bloody formal.”

Ellen smiled.

“Mother was very attentive - she read stories to me from these beautiful picture books. Uncle Lamb kept many of them for me, after she died, and I still have them.” She swallowed. “Or, I suppose, Frank has them, somewhere.”

Ellen squeezed Claire’s shoulder, grounding her in the present time.

“And yer Da?”

“Father.” Claire pressed her lips together, thinking. “He worked in…in an office. I’m not quite sure doing what. Only I remember waiting for him to come home, and him picking me up and hugging me and kissing me.”

“Sounds like ye remember quite a bit.” Ellen’s voice was gentle, encouraging.

Claire shrugged. “I suppose. I always remember feeling loved - that’s the most important of all, isn’t it?”

Then Ellen drew her close in her warm embrace, and the two women - the two mothers - just held each other for a while.

“Can I tell you something?” Claire whispered into Ellen’s white-streaked plaits, pinned so elegantly to the back of her head.

“Of course, lass. Ye ken ye can always tell me anything.”

Ellen felt Claire swallow, steeling herself. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am to have you. You - you are the only mother I’ve had in a very, very long time. And I - ”

Her voice broke with emotion. Ellen cradled her head as if she was one of her wee bairns, holding her close, giving her the emotional space she so desperately needed.

“*Seas, a Sorcha*,” she whispered. “Hush now. Ye know I’d love ye just for being the woman who stole my Jamie’s heart - but ye must know that I love ye for yer own sake, Claire. I hope ye do.”

Claire nodded, and went boneless against Ellen’s shoulders for a while.

The fire crackled. Laughter poured through the hallway from the direction of the study - clearly the men had moved from ledgers to whisky.

“Yer Mam - her name was Julia, if I recall correctly?”

“Yes.”

Ellen held Claire a bit tighter. “Ye ken that one of my names is Sileas, aye?”

Claire pulled back and met Ellen’s eyes, frowning in confusion. “I did not - but I don’t understand.”

Ellen smiled - Claire’s heart stuttered to see Jamie’s smile.

“Only - weel - it’s how we say ‘Julia’ in the *Gaidhlig.*”

Unbidden tears welled in Claire’s eyes. Her mouth opened and closed, struggling to find the words.

Ellen gripped Claire’s hands tightly. “Don’t ye see, Claire - I ken weel that ye and Jamie were…were fated to find each other. But I was fated to find *you.* To love ye and care for ye - gladly - and welcome you into my family as one of my own daughters.”

Claire swallowed, heart so full.

“There ye are!”

She felt Jamie enter the room, and waited almost breathlessly for him to walk up behind her, bend to gently wrap his arms around her shoulders, and kiss her cheek with a loud smacking noise.

“What’s this, Claire?”

He must have tasted the salt.

“Are ye alright? Has something upset ye?”

She turned her face to meet his, and kissed him deeply - right in front of his mother.

He - and she - didna mind one bit.

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted at [Imagine Claire & Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/147144540918/imagine-ellen-and-brian-embarrassing-jamie-and) on tumblr

_Original prompt: Imagine Ellen and Brian embarrassing Jamie and Claire about how obviously newlyweds they are._

* * *

 

“I’m so mortified.”

Jamie turned back to face his wife.

“It’s no’ like she’s never seen me nekkid, or a nekkid woman before, Sassenach. Dinna fash.”

Claire stopped, tugging his hand to face her. Over his shoulder, she could see someone lighting candles in the windows of the main house.

“I know she’s your mother, but I still don’t really *know* her, Jamie. And I *knew* we should have tried to find more privacy – ”

“The shady trees behind the broch is about as private as ye’ll get here,” he said softly, thumb tracing her knuckles. “God knows I was so happy to find ye, what with ye leaving so early this morning to gather yer wee herbs.”

She pursed her lips. “I felt – overcome with need, Jamie.” Her voice was quiet, and her eyes downcast. She always had such trouble expressing her feelings – and the depth of her feelings – and that she would so boldly state them now did not go unnoticed.

He stepped closer, took her basket from her free hand, set it down, and touched his forehead with hers. Quietly they breathed each other in.

“I did too, Claire. There’s no shame in it. And it’s grown deeper since last night, aye?”

Last night – they night they had finally said those three magic words to each other. Words that were long felt, but long overdue to be spoken.

She nodded, swallowing. “It’s like I told you – once I start, I’ll never be able to stop.”

He kissed her eyelids. “Tell me, once more.”

She touched her lips to his, whispering, “I love you.”

He stole her breath – and then, after a long moment, breathed those same words against her lips.

And they would have remained there, right outside the dooryard, for hours – whispering, caressing, just ecstatic to be alive and married to each other – had Claire’s stomach not voiced its emptiness.

They broke apart, laughing. Jamie bent to retrieve Claire’s basket, twined his fingers through hers, and walked beside her through the dooryard and into the house.

Turning the corner to the sitting room – hoping for a few private moments in their bedroom before supper – they were stopped cold.

“Ah, I was just about to send Murtagh out after ye!”

Brian was on the setee, a tumbler of whisky beside him, massaging the salve Claire had made him into his aching joints.

“There’s no need to be so worrit, Da,” Jamie said softly, shifting from foot to foot, impatient to be alone with Claire. “I ken weel when it’s suppertime. Dinna want to disappoint Mrs. Crook.”

“Those are wise words. And a wiser man will pick a more private spot next time.”

Claire flushed scarlet – but said nothing, knowing it was not her place.

“I am the laird of this estate, Da. I should be able to have some privacy on my own lands.” Jamie squeezed Claire’s fingers in apology – steel hardening his voice.

Brian cocked his dark head. “Ye are no’ the laird yet, lad. But I’ll ask ye to act like one. I dinna begrudge yer love for yer wife – but remember her honor. And remember where ye are, every second of every day – ye never know when a tenant may walk by. And some of the tenants have their eye on Claire – future laird’s wife or no.”

“Jamie?” Ellen rounded the corner from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a grubby apron. She slipped beside Brian on the setee and helped herself to his tumbler of whisky.

“Did ye really have to tell Da, Mam? It could have stayed between us.”

Claire glared at her husband – but he ignored her.

Ellen laughed. “Of course I did – and no’ for the reason ye’d expect.”

“Oh, aye? And what’s that, then? Are ye saying ye didna want to shame me in front of my own wife?”

“Shame has nothing to do wi’ it. If yer Claire is anything like yer Mam, Jamie – I’d wager she’s the reason why ye were out there flat on yer back in the first place.”

Ellen smiled. “Aye - it’s a bonny spot, behind the broch. We ken it weel.”

Jamie’s mouth gaped – and Claire shook her head, so happy to be a part of this strange but loving family. “Come on, Jamie. Let’s freshen up before supper? Want to make sure you get all the twigs out of your hair.”

She tugged Jamie up the stairs. Brian and Ellen’s laughter followed them all the way to the third floor.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted at [Imagine Claire & Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/151708242296/any-more-brian-and-ellen-au-fluff-please) on tumblr

_original prompt_ : any more brian and ellen au fluff please! // Thank you for continuing the Brian and Ellen Au! Could we have an other piece with kids??

* * *

 

Jamie turned his head to kiss the spot on the underside of Claire’s jaw that never failed to make her shiver.

She settled closer to him, shifting her legs to be more comfortable in his lap, watching their wee lassies peacefully dream in the sunshine nearby. They had quickly tired themselves out, darting after dragonflies and chasing each other in the tall grass just outside Jamie’s cave. It was pleasantly warm for Beltane – perfect for an impromptu birthday celebration, complete with bannocks and honey from Mrs. Crook’s basket.

Claire turned her face to nuzzle her nose with Jamie’s, smiling at the stickiness of his cheeks – the legacy of honey-smeared kisses from their messy daughters. So thrilled to see their beloved Da after a four-week separation, he had allowed them to tackle him to the floor of the cave, giggling the whole time.

“I’m sae happy right now, Claire,” he breathed into her ear, twining their fingers together atop her thigh. “I – I *crave* all three of ye. So much.”

They both hated how necessary it was for him to live apart. Redcoat patrols were still common, though not as much as in the immediate aftermath of Culloden three years before. That the Lallybroch had so far been relatively untouched by the violence and starvation sweeping through the Highlands was due in no small part to Brian and Ellen’s fortitude, and Claire and Jenny’s frugality, and Ian’s painstakingly built alliances with the remnants of neighboring clans. Together they would do – and were doing – everything they could to ensure their beloved estate would not only survive, but thrive in the years to come.

Jamie so wished to play a more active role in the running of the estate, taking his rightful place at Brian’s side. There still was a price on his head – though Brian had been quietly advancing his son’s cause with any sympathetic English ear he could find. After all, Jamie was still an outlaw – one of many Jacobite officers who had never been found following Culloden – and his case was not unique.

But still, they waited for a resolution. And so, Jamie lived in the cave during warmer months and in the cellar at the main house during the winter. Which meant that it had been more than a month since he and Claire had last enjoyed long, lazy hours of lovemaking, safe beneath the quilt in the Laird’s bedroom.

“We’re here today – right now, my love,” she whispered against his lips. “We think of you always. Surely you know that.”

“I do.” He sighed, kissing her forehead – then adjusted the flower crown that Faith had woven (with his help) to sit deeper in Claire’s curls. “So much fuss for my birthday. Mam and Da never marked the day with anything particular.”

“Well - *we* will. We must give as much joy to the girls as we can find – God knows there are enough terrible things in this world to take that joy from them.”

Jamie sighed and dropped a kiss on Claire’s shoulder. “I canna argue wi’ ye. And I’m verra grateful. Ye have taken so much of the burden wi’ raising them – ”

“Shh. You know I’m happy to. It’s no burden – well, when they’re *behaving,* anyway.”

“Mmm. Well then.” He brought his forehead to hers, and for a long time they just breathed each other in. Peace, sanctuary, amid so much anguish.

“Now I must think of how I’ll give ye a proper birthday this year,” he finally murmured, thumb tracing the outlines of her iron ring. “Fortunately I’ve got more than five months to plan.”

She pulled back – suddenly sporting a dazzling smile. He raised one eyebrow, questioning.

“It may be a bit difficult,” she teased, bringing their joined hands to rest on her belly.

He stared at her – blinked – and whooped, startling a confused Faith and Brianna into wakefulness. But then he gathered them – and Claire – into his arms, holding them so tightly that they stopped squirming.

Tears streamed from his eyes – so blue – as they locked on Claire’s.

“I am the happiest man alive,” he whispered.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted at [Imagine Claire & Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/154983321421/christmas-scenes-2-of-3) on tumblr

**Note: written as a Christmas 2016 gift to my Imagine readers!**

* * *

 

Six-year-old Faith Fraser took careful hold of her corner of the trapdoor.

“When I say heave,” their grandfather instructed, “yer Grannie and I will help ye. All right?”

Three-year-old Brianna Fraser nodded, her red curls bouncing in the light cast by the lantern.

“All right! One – two – three – heave!”

After a few moments the trapdoor opened. Brianna curiously peered over the edge into the gloom – and Ellen extended a careful arm to prevent Brianna from falling into the root cellar.

“It’s so dark! Why do we have to come out here when it’s so dark, Grannie?”

“Because it’s the only way we ken the Redcoats won’t be about.” Jamie set down his basket and handed the lantern to Brian, who held it above his head as he descended into the root cellar. Once Jamie had carefully stepped down almost past his shoulders, he effortlessly picked up a giggling Faith and hoisted her into the dark, then took the lantern from Brian.

“Here ye go – pick out enough potatoes to fill the basket, aye? There’s a good lass.”

Faith dutifully crossed to the far corner of the root cellar – full of shelves of dried fruit, dried meat, herbs, jars and jars of preserved vegetables, and enough potatoes and apples to feed all the hungry mouths of Lallybroch throughout the long winter.

“How are we doing, Jamie?” Brianna tugged on Ellen’s skirts, and she lifted her granddaughter to her hip, blessing her with a quick kiss to the forehead. “Will we need to try for another harvest?”

Brian stepped around his wife and held tight to the opened trapdoor as he carefully descended into the cellar, standing shoulder to shoulder with his son.

“We may have to,” he mused, glancing around at the half-full baskets. “Do ye think the ground is too hard to try at that softer patch?”

Jamie shook his head, keeping an eye on Faith as she carefully selected the potatoes.

“It’s been a bit warm these past few days – and we have to look, at least. Canna hurt. It’ll be a lot of onions and neeps and potatoes this year, but we should do well. And I may be able to bring home a stag or two, God willing.”

Brian silently slung an arm around his son’s shoulder – so proud. “It’s settled – we’ll take a look in the morning.”

“I’m done!” Faith piped up from the corner. “I canna lift the basket, Da – can ye help me?”

Brian crossed the packed-earth floor to examine his granddaughter’s work. “Good work, *a leannan*. Can ye help me wi’ a boost?”

“Watch yer back!” Ellen’s voice drifted from up above. “I dinna want ye throwing it out again.”

Brian sighed theatrically, and Faith giggled.

“That’s what ye gave me a son for, am I right? To help his puir Da in his auld age?”

Jamie stepped to Brian’s side, and together they hoisted the heavy basket of potatoes to their shoulders. Jamie pushed Faith in front of him and held out his free hand against her back as she negotiated the stairs to the surface.

“Auld age, my arse,” Brian muttered. “I’m fit as I ever was.”

“Mmphm. Keep telling yerself that, auld man.”

–

“Mama! We’re home!”

Faith tore through the door to the Laird’s bedroom and jumped up on the bed. Claire carefully settled one-month-old William Fraser against her shoulder and extended her other arm so that her eldest daughter could snuggle happily against her side.

“How did your little expedition go?”

“Well enough,” Jamie replied as he stepped into the room and closed the door, a sleepy Brianna nestled against his neck. “The stores are a bit low, but Da and Ian and I will go walk the potato fields tomorrow. We’re bound to fill up a basket at least – it’s been a while since we’ve been out.

Jamie stepped out of his boots, gently set down Brianna beside Faith, and stepped to the other side of the bed. Carefully he reached a tentative finger to stoke wee William’s brow, before bending to give his wife a kiss.

“How’s the wee lad, then?”

“He just finished his supper before you arrived. We’ll be good for a while.”

“Mmm. Move over a bit?”

Claire handed William to Jamie, then shifted over on the bed. Brianna and Faith took this as an invitation to crawl over their Mama so that they were safe between her and Da.

Jamie carefully lay William, swaddled in one of Claire’s spare arisaids, against a pillow, then slipped under the covers. In the dim light his arm crossed over his three children – and his fingers met and twined with Claire’s.

“Happy Christmas,” he whispered.

“It will be the happiest of Christmases, won’t it?” she replied.

“Will ye tell us a story, Mama? Maybe the one about mice?”

“There werena any mice, Bree! Remember, the mice were all sleeping?”

“Hush – that’s right, Faith. Not a creature was stirring – not even a mouse.”

“Can ye start from the beginning, then?” Jamie asked quietly, thumb tracing the bumps of Claire’s knuckles. “I want to hear it all again.”

The logs crackled in the fireplace. The wind picked up outside. The world was full of such uncertainty – but not here. Not in this room. Not on this night.

“Twas the night before Christmas…”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted at [Imagine Claire & Jamie](https://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/159865521301/may-we-have-some-more-brian-and-ellen-au-love-the) on tumblr

**original prompt** : Hi, is it possible to get another continuation of the Brian and Ellen Fraser AU please?

* * *

 

Jamie shook awake as a twig snapped at the mouth of the cave.

Curling cold fingers around his dirk, Jamie eased closer to the hidden opening, squinting in the faint rays of pre-dawn. Closer – and closer –

And then a blur of red-brown feathers.

He sighed, and let the dirk dully clatter to the dirt floor. Just another curious grouse, looking for a safe place to lay her eggs, no doubt.

Two weeks he’d been back in the cave, after spending the winter in the cramped quarters of the priest hole. One week without word from the main house – not since Fergus had scrabbled up the hill, bearing a few loaves of Mrs. Crook’s coarse bread and two short notes from his family.

One from his mother: “All is well. Be safe.”

And one from his wife: “We miss you and love you. Be safe.”

Close on four years now he’d been living as a fugitive on his own lands – in the priest hole, in the cave, in the abandoned cottage half a day’s ride out. Not living with his wife and children, as a true man should. Not contributing to the running of the estate as much as he would like – and him the heir!

He shook his head, hearing Claire’s exasperated voice echo in his mind. “You do *plenty* for us – bring meat and birds when we need them, give Ian and Brian advice when it’s required. And love us.”

The barest of rustles from the bushes just a few yards from the mouth of the cave.

Christ – it sounded too big to be another grouse. And bigger than a deer –

“Jamie, lad!”

Murtagh.

Not Fergus. Not Da.

Something was wrong.

Jamie fumbled on the floor of the cave for his dun bonnet, clapped it on his head, and wriggled, blinking, into the dawn.

His godfather huffed a bit – looking the worse for wear.

“What is it?”

The dour man pursed his lips, bushy eyebrows creased into a frown. “Ye must come to the house. Now.”

Jamie’s heart leapt to his throat. Fear iced through his heart.

“Why? Is everything all right?”

Murtagh extended an arm to gently nudge Jamie down the hill toward the main house. “No. Yer Da – he’s had an apoplexy. Claire’s tending to him, but – ”

If there had been more, Jamie didn’t bother to hear it, for he was already half-way down the hill, exhaustion forgotten in the haze of fear.

*Christ, Da – ye canna die now. I canna run Lallybroch now – not when I’m living like an animal. Not when Ian has just been released from prison again. Not when the English are doing their damndest to take everything away from us.*

The main door was suddenly in front of him – and Jamie realized he’d been running.

*Not when I still have so much to learn…*

He left the door open for Murtagh, and swiftly yet quietly climbed the stairs two at a time to his parents’ bedroom.

Just as he turned the corner on the landing, the door opened and Ellen slipped out, eyes creased with exhaustion.

“Mam,” he croaked, yanking off his bonnet and carelessly dropping it to the floor.

Startled, her eyes lit up at the sight of her eldest surviving son. Then she opened her arms, and he fell into them just as he had when he was a wee bairn.

“It’s all right, *mo mhac*,” she soothed. “Robert noticed something amiss at supper last night, and he went straight up to tell Claire. She was putting the wee ones to bed and came straight down. Started giving him a looking-over and then he just slumped on the chaise.”

She swallowed, still so full of feeling. Jamie just held her tighter.

“Robert and Fergus and Murtagh got him up here – and Claire hasna left his side. She says the worst is over, and he’s awake now.”

Jamie inhaled – and felt a sob wrack through his frame. Ellen shushed him.

“It’s no’ his time yet. Dinna fash.”

Murtagh finally appeared at the top of the stairs – and locked eyes with Ellen over the shoulders of the man they loved almost more than anything in the world.

As always, Murtagh understood what needed to be done. He quietly stepped forward to lay a gentle hand on Jamie’s back. Jamie straightened, kissed his mother’s forehead, and softly opened the door to the Laird’s room.

Sunlight streamed into the window, falling on Brian’s legs as he shifted uneasily beneath the coverlet, sitting against the headboard he’d carved for Ellen as a wedding present. On the far side of the bed, Claire bent to dip a cloth in a bowl of water before laying it on Brian’s forehead. On the near side of the bed, Jenny and his younger brother Rab alternately held Brian’s hand and sorted through a pile of dirty linens.

They all looked up – and beamed to see Jamie.

Relief from Jenny and Rab. Love from Brian. And pride – and an outpouring of silent support – from Claire.

“Da,” he finally said, a bit deflated.

Brian raised a hand in greeting, face split in a wide smile.

“He canna speak just yet,” Jenny said quietly. “Claire said it would only be temporary.”

Jenny and Rab stood, allowing Jamie to ease onto the bed beside his father and rest a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Fortunately it only seems to have been a minor stroke – just a bit of facial drooping, and he’s lost a bit of feeling on his right side,” Claire gently explained, running her fingers along the inside of Brian’s wrist to take his pulse. “But all that, and his loss of speech, are temporary. He should be back to his normal self in a few days – that is, as long as he listens to his doctor’s advice.”

Brian quirked a large, dark eyebrow at his daughter-in-law, but then turned back to his older son, nodding.

“I’ll stay in the house until he’s better.” Jamie looked to his brother and sister, daring them to disagree. “I canna be away when this is going on.”

“There was a patrol here yesterday. In the house,” Rab’s blue gaze pierced into his brother. “They were looking for ye. Thank God Da was able to dream up a good explanation as to why there’s a five-month-old bairn in the house when Jenny is clearly ready to deliver at any time.”

Jenny reflexively moved a hand to the swell of her belly – her fifth child.

“William,” Jamie breathed. “Christ, Rab – they didna touch him, now?”

“Of course not,” Claire huffed from across the room. “Fortunately *that* Fraser had the sense to not resemble his father too much. Easy to explain him away as an orphan that we took in.”

“What Rabbie is trying to say,” Jenny interjected, “is that it isna safe for ye here, Jamie.”

The door opened, and Ellen quietly slipped into the room, holding the door open for Murtagh, who carried a tray piled high with bannocks and fresh milk.

“It isna safe for me *anywhere*, Jenny.” Jamie closed his eyes, defeated. “I am useless to all of ye. I canna protect any of ye.”

“Get yer thick red heid out of yer arse,” Ellen admonished, diligently mashing a bannock in a plate of milk for Brian’s breakfast. “Ye’re no’ going anywhere. We’ve been talking about it – we want to air out the attic and build a room for ye up there. And then expand the priest hole, so ye can hide down there if need be.”

“That way ye can be close to all of us – and remain out of sight,” Jenny explained. “There are too many things going on – we canna risk ye being away from us anymore.

“But – ”

“It’s already settled lad,” Murtagh interrupted. “Dinna even *dream* of arguing wi’ us.”

The eyes of five Frasers bore into him – challenging him to disagree.

So he leaned to kiss his father’s rough cheek, rose, walked around the bed, and took his wife into his arms.

“If it means I get to be wi’ all of ye all of the time – and spend the day with my bairns – and sleep beside my wife every night – how can I refuse?”

And he bent to kiss Claire, heart suddenly lighter than it had been for a long, long time.


End file.
